


Behind Blue Eyes.

by ricoaken



Series: State of the Art [4]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Accidental Plot, Alternate Universe - Canon, Classic Doctor Who References, Doctor Who References, Humor, Spin-Off, Time Travel, some asshole - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-05 05:43:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 19,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12788277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ricoaken/pseuds/ricoaken
Summary: The war between the Daleks and the Time Lords threatened all of reality before it was stopped by a man in a blue box. Now, a boy and a girl in a black Camaro discover that there is someone else that the war left behind.





	1. Tintarella Di Luna

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone's noticed, every chapter title is a song, so there's an entire playlist for you to listen to and get in the mood of the story.

In the vastness of the cold blue desert of Metebelis III sat a very strange and peculiar object. There, out in the darkness, a black car dated to 1969’s Earth had its wheels stuck on the humid sand, and the loud sound of the engine attracted all kinds of mysterious wildlife.  
Inside the car was a young man (but that, only in appearance, for his age was one untold), with brown long hair and pale skin, wearing nothing but a shirt with a little rocket print and a jeans overall full of colorful buttons. He switched the key but the car seemed to move not an inch; as said the young lady sitting by the man’s side. Her light brown skin shone with the dim blue light of the moon, as she held her long wavy hair up, so it’d move away from the oversized jeans jacket that she wore on top of a red tank top.  
–I’m just saying it’s a fact: you are getting reckless. – She sat on the red swivel chair by the console, after in a second both the driver’s and the passenger’s seat went down. – It doesn’t have to be a bad thing; it is fun to be honest.  
–What do you mean reckless? – He ran around the console, pushing buttons and levers in no particular pattern. – I wanted… WE wanted those crystals.  
–I know, but remember all that stuff you said, about not messing with the planet’s timeline, the sciency stuff.  
–Sciency?  
–And now look at us, planning a robbery.  
–Oh, so you weren’t on about the crystals? – He looked surprised.  
She was spinning on the chair, not paying attention to his remarks.  
–Look, Eken. – He said. – They’ll burn in flames anyway, okay? We are not stealing the paintings… – he kneeled down and opened a little door under the octagonal panel. – …we’re saving them from their imminent doom.  
–What’cha doing there, space cowboy? – She jumped from the chair, her hair loosening and falling over her shoulders.  
–It’s him… – Sound from wires moving around could be heard where only half the man’s body could be seen – he seems to have become dependent on the wheels.  
–I’m telling you he needs regular maintenance. – She graciously moved her fingers throughout the console.  
–What he needs. – A little pop was heard, followed by an ‘ouch!’ of the man. – Is to remember he’s a TARDIS, not a car.  
The transparent cylinder placed in the middle of the octagonal console began moving up and down, slowly. The tubes that hanged from the ceiling pumped some form of liquid into it, as the colorful machinery inside moved with gears spinning and light shining.  
–Eken… Time Lord Science... – He typed things on a keyboard on the console, besides them, a big wall-sized window was opening, slowly showing off the vastness of the blue planet. – It’s not that hard to understand. – He pulled a little screen that too along with tubed hung from the ceiling. – It’s a lot like art, really. – He looked at the window, where the planet began to disappear and a strange vortex appeared.  
–And I…  
–Oooh, you’re so corny! – She laughed with both hands on the console, her eyes rolling.  
–…am the Artist. – He smiled, looking at the time vortex.  
 


	2. Le premier bonheur du jour.

Eken woke up to the strange sound the Time Machine made when danger was imminent. She did not jump out of her large bed with red blankets, because she did get used to the sound of the Cloister Bell whenever the Artist was trying out something new on his TARDIS. With a sigh, she decided to get up and see what the eccentric little man was about. In her baby blue with white stars and moons pajamas, she went to the central console room, only to see the Artist on top of the control panel, trying to pull from the ceiling one of the black tubes that connected to the cylinder on the center.  
Before asking him what he was doing she laughed at the scene, and made her way back to the kitchen. He had an ordinary screwdriver in his mouth and was desperately trying to open the huge circular part connected to the ceiling. At his feet was a book written in strange circular patterns, with little images that appeared to be machinery parts. The girl returned with a plate of eggs and bacon and sat at the swivel chair by the panel and placed her feet on top of the console.  
–You’ll get fat. – He said, the screwdriver still in his mouth, not looking at her.  
–So what? – She smiled, looking at the tubes moving everywhere. – May I ask what you’re doing, Mr. Artist?  
–I’m… – One of the tubes snapped. – Shit! – He almost fell from the console.  
She laughed with her mouth full.  
–I figured out what’s wrong with him. – He continued, recovering balance.  
–You’ve got my full attention.  
–He’s trying to stop me. – Another tube snapped, blue steam coming out of it. – It’s got something to do with the laws of time.   
She picked up the manual. – What’s this?  
–A manual. – The Artist said, and with lots of effort he opened a little metal hole on the ceiling.   
–You guys write like that? – She held the book upside down. – It’s beautiful, Archie!  
–I know, right? – He smiled at her. – See how it’s supposed to look like little clock gears?   
–Yes!  
–So silly. – He laughed.  
The Cloister Bell rang once more and Eken had to get her plate out of the way as more steam came from the ceiling.  
–Sure you know what you’re doing? – She asked.  
–Absolutely, thank you. – He gave her a sarcastic smile.   
Suddenly all the lights went out and only the faint vibration of the TARDIS could be felt. Eken laughed and after a couple seconds the Artist laughed too.

When it materialized, the little texts and numbers at the Camaro’s windshield showed the date September the 1st. The year: 1666.   
The Artist and Eken stepped out of the car dressed in Victorian clothing, the Artist having a very hard time with the shoes. – Here we are: Earth’s Landan. – He said.  
–I’m pretty sure it’s London. – Eken answered.   
“They’re looking at me funny” said Eken, when they entered the town, walking fast throughout the streets full of people. “Well, they’re earthlings they look funny at everything” the Artist responded. Eken asked what exactly what they’d do, but the Artist was silent all the way. When they stopped, the Artist smiled at what appeared to be a gallery of some kind. “Let’s go and have a look” they entered the gallery, and suddenly a little man, fat and bald with a spruce moustache came up to them and shouted:   
–Excuse me!   
–You’re excused. – Said the Artist with a smile.  
–No, no. I won’t allow this… thing, to enter this gallery! – He pointed at Eken, which looked at him smiling.  
–Funny, I was thinking the same about you. – The Artist pulled out a little black cube, the size of an ordinary dice, with a little red button on it and pressed.   
A flash of light made the man fall straight to the floor in a moment. Eken was shocked, but seeming that the man was still breathing through that big moustache of his, she laughed. – Humans are so funny, aren’t they?  
–Funny, yes; – the Artist said, looking at the paintings on the wall. – but extremely talented.  
He looked at her and said nothing; his look was a strange one.  
–What? – She asked.  
–You look beautiful. – He finally said. As she, with a silly smile, prepared to reply, he continued speaking. – Eken, tomorrow Lenden will catch fire.  
–London!... You’ll set fire to London? – She looked concerned.  
–No! – He laughed and looked at some of the costumers, then began whispering closer to her. – It’s history, it’ll happen tomorrow and it’s a big event on Earth’s history.  
–Oh. – She looked around; all those beautiful paintings there, about to be destroyed. Then she looked back at him, standing there, smiling at her. – OH! – She gasped. – I see now.  
–It’s going to be dangerous.  
–We literally survived Metebilis III. – She said.  
–And possibly very… very weird. – He concluded.  
“Weird?” Eken asked, but no answer came from the Artist. The Camaro was parked inside an abandoned garage at a dock. They returned and the Artist explained his plan. All would take place at the first day of the Great Fire of London, which would be the 2nd of Setember, the day after the one they were in.   
At night, he prepared her a meal, with some of her favorite foods, recipes he’d looked up on the database about Dronid, her home planet. That made her extremely happy, but didn’t stop her asking him more than once if Time Lords needed to eat and sleep and all the things she’d rarely seen the Artist doing. “Like… showers! I’ve never seen you shower!” She remarked, and he laughed really loud. “There’s like ten bathrooms at this TARDIS, you use one I use the other nine…” He answered. “You’re really weird Archie.” Both of them looked at each other with a look that synthesized an enormous amount of fondness. Lots of joking around and wine later, she felt sleepy and went to her room. Even though it was a good three minutes away from the console room, the sounds of hammering and machinery could be heard. He was still adjusting the TARDIS to their art heist.

As the night fell, the Artist drove the car with the invisible shield on, towards the gallery they’d previously visited. Both of them were wearing what appeared to be a red space suit, with a little sign of a fire on the right arm. As foreseen, fire was already spreading and people were running everywhere trying to save their belongings. They stopped the car and Eken said:  
–Alright, let’s go.  
–Wait a little bit. – He looked at a small strange watch on his wrist. The watch counted not only hours and minutes, but what appeared to be little planets moved inside too, as if it marked the turn of the Earth.  
–Where do you get those things of yours? – She pointed at the watch.  
–Oh, this? I made it.  
–You mean you made this? – She looked surprised.  
–Come on, I’m not only an artist. – He smiled. – Okay, now.  
They went out towards the gallery, it was closed but with a kick from Eken the door opened easily.  
–Grab only what you can carry! – He said, smoke was already in the air.  
–But! The rest!  
–THAT’S THE PART WHERE IT GETS WEIRD! – He shouted and laughed really loud, grabbed one painting with a golden frame and ran towards the door.   
Both of them entered the car and placed the paintings at the back seat. She panted and looked at him. He stepped on the accelerator and the miniature of the console that sat on the panel was making the dematerialization sound, as the little cylinder rapidly went up and down. Three bursts of sound and they were back at the other side of the street, Eken gasped: there were they, exiting the gallery with the paintings as they did seconds before.  
–Oh my god… – She said, her eyes stuck on them both walking towards the invisible camaro.  
–Cool, right? – He laughed.  
–You’re right… I’m getting chubby… – She smiled too.  
They went out again, went inside the gallery and rapidly went out with more of the paintings. The fire was already catching up, which made the Artist not even look at what he was doing. They ran towards the car and made another short hop in time and then did it again, until the gallery was empty and they had about fifteen paintings at their backseat.  
–So much for someone that yesterday dared not to break one single rule of time, right? – She laughed and gave him a little punch on the shoulder.  
–It’s your bad influence on me. – He drove away smiling. – Let’s go, I want to see the place where the fire started.  
But then the car suddenly stopped, out of the blue. The Artist’s face went pale, as if he’d seen a ghost in the car’s windshield.   
–Archie?   
He pointed at the horizon and outside a huge fire, at what appeared to be the remains of Pudding Lane’s Baker House, was a big blue box. His hands were shaking, and a drop of sweat dripped from his forehead.   
–Archie! – Eken didn’t know what to say, but she wanted him to step on the accelerator. – Archie, Drive! – She screamed.  
He stood still, paralyzed, and as his eyes did not blink, a strange man wearing a long beige coat ran towards the box and a second later the thing began fading. “Drive!” She shouted, and his right hand gripped the car’s gear lever, at the windshield, the blue letters wrote “RESIDUAL TIME ENERGY TRACE” He stepped as hard as he could on the accelerator and the car rapidly began moving, bumping on little rocks and shaking their seats. As the box dematerialized, slowly fading, the car began its set of three bursts of sound. The loud sound of engine mixed with the strange noise coming from the box. At the exact same time, both the box and the car were suddenly inside the Time Vortex, lightning coming from all sides giving them a hard time keeping the car after the box.   
–IT’S HIM, EKEN! – The Artist finally screamed.  
–IT’S THE DOCTOR! – Eken shouted.  
Suddenly the car bumped into the box, which swiveled out of control. A burst of light was seen and suddenly the car bumped into something. They had materialized.   
 


	3. Sur Le Fil

“Where are we?” the Artist asked, but no answer came from Eken, the car fallen into darkness, not one control working. He picked up the little box on the pocket of his suit and flashed it on Eken’s face, she’d passed out. He grabbed her shoulders and shook but she seemed to be sleeping, like the one time when she connected to the TARDIS’s computer with her cybernetic brain. The Artist opened the door with much difficulty, and saw a field of grass with mountains at the horizon. A single grey tree was where the car bumped, and he kicked the left front wheel out of frustration.   
There was almost no light, but the dim one that shone was of a purple tone. He’d stop to appreciate the breeze, if not so worried about his friend unconscious in the car. An hour passed but Eken was still asleep, her heartbeat was alright as he made sure to check. “You stay here then, buddy, I’ll come back.” He exited the car and opened the trunk, inside which was Eken’s hoverbike. He drove the fast vehicle, directing himself north, as indicated a small golden compass he kept as a keychain. North was towards the mountains, and the air grew colder as he grew close to them.   
As the vehicle approached the mountains, big metal towers were presented to the Artist’s vision. By wires they were connected to each other, reaching new heights as the distance to the mountains shortened. It wasn’t long till he noticed other types of metal lying on the field. He stopped the hoverbike and went closer to the junk of what appeared to have been a spaceship. The pieces were enormous, with metal walls and floors, full of different patterns. Some of the walls seemed strangely familiar, but he couldn’t remember from where. Had him been inside his TARDIS, some tools would be available to his use, so he could determine how old that scrap metal was. He checked the pockets of the victorian suit he wore; looking for some technological piece he could’ve forgotten about. Only the little cube of light was at the right pocket and an ordinary paint brush was in the left.  
More time he spent on top of the fast hoverbike, the mountains seeming to always be closer but to never be reached. Making another stop he looked at the compass again. North now pointed to his left. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He let out, as if speaking to the air. Making the turn the hoverbike took him fast towards what appeared to be a city. Keeping an eye on the mountains, they seemed to be near wherever he went. The towers kept showing up. When inside the city, the atmosphere smelled strange, as if it was something from another planet that was somehow planted there. He did not like what he saw, for it was of a depressing appearance. All the junk, chairs fallen and the poor remains of what seemed to have been clothes from a time long gone. The little cube and the hoverbike’s light were his only font of illumination; the hours seemed to be passing faster. Idling the vehicle he looked around, straining his eyes. He then saw something that called his attention. Climbing down from the bike he touched it and was stirred: an octagonal panel, full of levers and buttons. In the middle sat a tall transparent cylinder, its glass cracked. That before hadn’t been a spaceship, that now was not a city; those were TARDISes.   
 


	4. Join Together

–Are you him? – Said a man’s voice.   
That scared the Artist, he pointed up the little light cube and pressed it hard.   
The light showed a man that appeared to be in his 30’s if he was a human from Earth or a dronidian like Eken. He had short black hair and a very pale skin. He wore a light black shirt and black pants.  
–Who are you looking for? – asked the Artist.  
–Are you the Doctor? – The man responded.  
The Artist felt something strange about the man, but that got stranger when he asked about the Doctor. Both of them were looking for the same person, the same Time Lord. The man covered half his face, his yes, for the light of the cube was strong.   
–What if I am? – The Artist asked, for he felt it not quite wise to reveal his identity.   
–I sent you a distress signal. – He answered, walking towards the hoverbike.  
–A… – The Artist gasped. – Are you…  
The man interrupted him.  
–A Time Lord, yes.  
It wasn’t quite clear for the Artist, the sensation that flowed through his hearts at that second, but he ran towards the man and hugged him with the same strength as he hugged Eken for the first time. That there was the first one of his kind that he’d seen for ages, aside from the short glimpse at the real Doctor.  
The man disentangled from the hug, giving two steps back. “You’re not the Doctor.” The man said.   
–How’d you know? – He was surprised.  
The man had a grim look on his face. He clenched his fists and said loudly:  
–Who are you?   
–I’m the Artist. – He trembled a little.  
The man turned around, not looking at the Artist. He grunted and fell on his knees.   
–Are you alright? – Asked the Artist, slowly getting closer to the man.  
–I ask the questions here. – The man said angrily. – Do you have a TARDIS?  
–Yes! – Archie responded happily. – But…  
–But? – The man made a bad mimic of the Artist’s voice.  
–It’s… off…  
–I’ll fix it. – He got up. – Come on. Take me there.   
He climbed the hoverbike and tapped the seat. The Artist had a concerned look on his face but did as the man asked, as he had no other options. “You haven’t told me your name.” The Artist said before starting the hoverbike. “I’m the Pilgrim.” The man answered.  
They rode through the wasteland quiet, and although he had thousands of questions the Artist did nothing but look forward. The stranger held tight, his arms around Artist’s waist. As they grew close, although darkness had fallen upon the field, the dark dot that was the Camaro began to be seen. When they reached it, the Artist was surprised to see that the look on the Pilgrim’s face was of disgust.  
–You’ve been to Earth, I see. – Added the Pilgrim.  
–Yes. – The Artist smiled. – Nice, innit?   
The man touched the car’s body. “Type…” He said and looked at the Artist. “Seventy-One.” The Artist only smiled. He opened the door and there was Eken, still sleeping. “What’s this?” Asked the man. That remark made the Artist frown. “She is my friend, Eken, from the planet Dronid.”   
The man prepared to touch Eken’s head, but the Artist rapidly slapped his hand.  
–How dare… – He looked at the Artist’s eyes, which showed no intention to fight but not the one to sit and watch either. – What’s up with her? – He concluded.  
–I’m not sure. – Archie answered. – When we got here, to this planet, both the TARDIS and she turned off.  
–She’s a cyborg? – The man asked, the tone of his voice showed he wasn’t surprised.   
–Yeah… she…   
The Pilgrim interrupted the Artist again.  
–Look, I’ll have to jump-start your TARDIS, hopefully we’ll have the time to get out of here alive.   
–What? – The Artist said that way too loud. – What do you mean alive?  
–Boy, get inside please. – He sat on the driver’s seat and opened a little compartment under the steering wheel. – And close the door, hopefully the shield’s still working.   
The Artist sat at the back seat and closed the door, looking concerned at the wasteland through the windows. The paintings from their little adventure earlier that day were still sitting there.   
–Hey… – He wanted to ask at least something from the man sitting with them, he needed to know anything. – You… Do you… do you know what happened to Gallifrey?  
–Yes. – He showed no emotion.  
–Can you tell me? – The Artist asked, trying his best not to show how amazed he was.  
The Pilgrim stopped messing with the wires under the panel for a second, and then looked back at the Artist.  
–You don’t know?  
–I… – He didn’t know what to say.   
–The Time War?   
–Yes, the war.  
–Daleks?  
–Yes! I know about them, it’s just…  
–The Doctor using an ancient device to burn our entire civilization along with the Daleks?  
The Artist gasped. The Doctor? The man he was looking for, the man so dear to Vincent Van Gogh… Burned Gallifrey?   
The Pilgrim got back to the wires, but his attention was now the Artist’s.   
–At least that’s what they say that the Eye of Discord was made for. Burning. I don’t think so, no. I think that thing was a multi-dimensional weapon.   
–What’d you mean?  
–It’s probable that Gallifrey is still kicking. – He grunted and a little electric shock was heard at the panel. – It’s just in another dimension.  
–If so… – The Artist was doing his best to follow. – How can it be we’re alive?   
The stranger stopped once more and looked at the Artist again; he was smiling now.  
–You don’t know a thing about time travel, do you?  
–I do! – He seemed offended, but the man’s smile made he express one of his own. – I’m just… I was a curator at Gallifrey, I’m a bit rusty that’s all.  
–I can see by the look of your TARDIS. – The Pilgrim said. – You know you can change its appearance, right?   
–I know! – He exclaimed.   
–Then why’s it still a car? – He asked loudly.  
–Aesthetics! – Archie concluded.  
At that moment the windshield went completely black, and a second later all the other windows did the same. A dim red light was emanated from the little console’s miniature on the panel, and the cylinder began slowly going up and down. The Artist was about to laugh in joy, but the Pilgrim placed his finger on his mouth, as if asking for complete silence. “They’re here.” He whispered. “Who’s here?” The frightened inexperienced Time Lord asked, but no answer came from the Pilgrim that got back to the wires shortly after. The Artist held Eken’s hand, it felt warm although she didn’t move. A little light appeared on the windshield, circular patterns, the Gallifreyan writing. “RESTARTING SYSTEM” it read. He tapped the Pilgrim’s shoulder, strongly, to which the man said “ouch!” He turned around and asked “What?!” As the Artist pointed at the windows. Complete darkness was around them, but not normal darkness, for that one was moving. “What are those things?” Artist whispered.   
“Vashta Nerada.” The Pilgrim answered.


	5. Pinball Wizard

Suddenly Eken jumped on her seat, as if she’d just waken up from a nightmare, gasping from air. The Pilgrim startled and abruptly moved back, scared, touching his back on the driver’s seat door. “EKEN!” The Artist screamed, and the dark of the windows suddenly began ferociously shaking the car’s bodywork. Everything at that moment happened in seconds. As Eken woke up, she looked at the man seating on the driver’s seat, that looked at her with his mouth open and his eyes as if they’d eject from his head. Shaking, he looked over her shoulder to the passenger’s seat window, only to see that the shadows outside were moving faster and faster. The Artist smiled at Eken, too busy with his friend’s return to notice that the dim red light emanating from the cylinder now turned light blue, and the windshield began displaying more and more letters, not only Gallifreyan circles but the English alphabet as well. Then the Pilgrim gripped his hands on the steering wheel and shouted. “Hang in there folks!”   
If anyone was to see the image of the wasteland at that moment, they’d be amazed by what followed. The black Camaro was only a black dot, covered in shadow with no sound disturbing the utter silence of the desert. At the second that followed, a loud engine sound made the Vashta Nerada shake, assuming numerous different shapes and forms, as if they’d lost notion of what they were touching. The pitch black suddenly gave place to a bolt of light, blue as the first lightning to announce the storm. Along with the lightning, the sound of thunder was heard coming from the wheels of the black Camaro, spinning fast but moving not an inch.  
–WHO’S THIS? – Eken finally screamed.  
–HE’S MY FRIEND! – The Artist shouted in reply.  
–I think that’s an overstatement. – The Pilgrim said in a low tone, suddenly moving his right hand to the gearshift.   
The car moved graciously in a circle, smoke and sand flying from its wheels, as the blue light emanated from inside the windows, dispersing the Vashta Nerada. And in a burst of sound, a dome of light appeared and disappeared in a flash, and suddenly the car was no longer there.  
The Pilgrim sighed. Eken and the Artist were speechless. “Eken…” The Artist started, his voice showed how impressed he was. “This is the Pilgrim.”   
When they descended to the console room, the Artist explained to Eken what had happened, and the girl told him that when crossing the Time Vortex she felt as if her brain had burned. The Pilgrim contemplated everything: the paintings on the walls, the red sofa and the swivel chair, the easel, with a blank canvas on top, paintbrushes and pencils lying around; such Earthly pieces, common things, inside a technological marvel such as the TARDIS.  
–You’re a lot like him, you know that? – The Pilgrim said after a couple minutes. – You’re a lot like the Doctor.  
The Artist was quiet, he looked down and said nothing.  
–How so? – Asked Eken.  
–He values the little things… Art, furniture… – He picked up a piece of paper that was on top the console, a drawing of Eken’s face. – Humans…  
–Look, Pilgrim. – The Artist got up from the steps where he was sitting, one of the three that went towards the wall-sized window of the console room. – You have some explaining to do. We don’t really know each other and you’re driving my TARDIS.  
–Thought you said you guys were friends? – Sarcasm was on Eken’s voice.  
–Well he’s a Time Lord too.  
–So you’re like friends from school that don’t talk anymore? – She smiled.  
–No, I met him today.  
The Pilgrim interrupted their conversation.   
–I take it that you thought you were the last Time Lord? – He said, gently sitting on the top of the console, crossing his arms.  
–I knew the Doctor was around. – He answered, and he pointed at the painting of the police box on the wall, the small piece by Van Gogh.  
–The Doctor’s the only one stupid enough to think he’s alone. – He pressed one button at the console, not even looking at it.   
At the screen, the image of a man with long nose and big ears appeared. “They’re all gone. I’m left traveling on my own, ‘cause there’s no one else.” He said.  
–Events are all out of place because of this one man. This one Time Lord. – The Pilgrim continued. – Whatever he’s done to Gallifrey, that man has no idea of the trouble that he’s causing to the entirety of time.  
–Told you we’d better not mess with the rules. – The Artist said under his breath so only Eken would hear.  
–I met him, seconds before arriving at the planet you were in.  
–You’ve must have met one of him, but it’s no good if you meet the ones from before of the war.   
–What’d you mean?  
–This man’s TARDIS is strange, it’s… broken… everything in his life is completely out of sync with the rest of the universe.  
Neither Eken nor the Artist seemed to understand a thing.   
–Whatever business you want to have with the Doctor, it’s no good if you don’t meet the right him. – He looked at the painting of the police box. – Or her.  
–Is there others? – The Artist looked at the window, starst shone outside. – Of us. Alive.   
–Oh yes, I don’t know exactly how many, but there’s loads of Time Lords that escaped the planet before it went bonkers.   
–What were you doing at that planet? – Eken asked, the Artist looked surprised at her. – Those things at the window, they were Vashta Nerada. They were dangerous.  
–If you wouldn’t mind, – He typed another button at the console, and the tubes began pumping liquid onto the tube. – I’d rather show you.  
The Pilgrim sat alone at the sofa on the console room. He had no belongings but the clothes he wore. His face was pale and under his big green eyes were dark circles, such uncommon things for a race that needed so little sleep.   
Eken dragged the Artist by his hands to the corridors, with the excuse that they needed to attend the wardrobe to change into more confortable outfits. She said nothing until they reached the big hall that was the wardrobe, much larger than the little door she first saw when she entered the TARDIS for the first time.  
–Archie. – She looked directly into the Artist’s eyes and began unbuttoning her dress.   
–Uh… – He seemed embarrassed. – Eken we have a guest…   
–Shut up! – She gently grabbed a yellow overall, with little flowers drawn in it. – Turn around.  
The Artist turned around, looking for clothes to wear.  
–There’s something off about that guy. – She said.  
–What’d you mean? – He picked up a jacket so colorful, as if it was white at the beginning but now was covered in many tones of paint, like it’d been spilled with a hundred paintbrushes. – I think he’s cool.  
–Look, I know you thought you were alone, – under the overall, she wore a white top with many little blue rockets die-pressed. – and that it’s cool for you to finally find someone to answer your questions.  
She walked over to him and started unbuttoning his victorian shirt. He looked at her as if he knew she was right, but didn’t want to listen, almost looking over her shoulder weren’t for the fact that she was taller.  
–But you gotta admit. – She continued. – Guy comes in here, piloting our car better than both of us, doesn’t tell us shit about his story.   
–Yeah I thought about that too. – He looked down. – At the planet, when you were asleep, I saw two dead Gallifreyan Time Capsules.   
–Shit, Archie. – She looked concerned, picked up a plain black shirt and gave him. – There’s that and there’s something else.   
–What? – He directed his hands towards her, needing help with the buttons on the wrists.   
–I wasn’t asleep, I hadn’t passed out. – She buttoned the shirt. – The car sent me a signal at that moment, when we were inside the vortex. I felt the Cloister Bell, but I felt it in my brain. It wasn’t the biological part of me that passed out, it was the robotic one.

They exited the wardrobe when a smooth bump could be felt; they had materialized. When they reached the console, the Pilgrim had his eyes on the screen. He looked at them with an intrusive sight, especially at the Artist. “Honestly, where do you shop?” He said. “Somewhere better than where you do, Mr. Death Eater.” Eken answered. They seated on the car seats that stood at the room’s side, like the chassis of the car had been removed and placed there as a piece of furniture. “See, this is what I mean;” the Pilgrim started as he held the panel in front of the passenger’s seat, Eken sitting at the driver’s seat and the Artist at the back “it’s not practical, the car theme. Change into, I don’t know, something with doors here, so you don’t have to do this every time you need to get out.” The chassis spinned, like a spiral staircase, and with a little click they’d reached the car’s interior. “Shut up, okay? It’s fun.” Eken added, sighing.   
When they opened the car they were inside a huge laboratory, with shiny tall metal pillars around, transparent cylinders everywhere. “How nice, he’s a nerd.” Eken said. The Artist seemed a little intimidated by all that, the girl quickly noticed and grabbed his hand.   
–We’re in the planet Elexer-3. – The Pilgrim said.  
–That’s original, did you name it yourself? – Eken replied sarcastically.   
Seeming as if he’d ignored her, he continued.  
–Here I do my experiments on multi-dimensional transportation. – He opened his arms.  
Little folk seemed to be about on the laboratory. They all wore white jumpsuits, with grey gloves. They were short in height and their steps were fast, which was noticed by both Eken and the Artist as they roamed rapidly through the big hall’s floor. Eventually, one of them came closer to them and touched the Pilgrim’s hand.  
–Sir. – His voice was normal; they expected it to be squeaky, to match his toy-looking appearance. – Were you succeeded, this time, sir?  
–No. – The Pilgrim sounded harsh. – We’ll talk later, I have guests.  
The little creature gazed at them, and the Artist waved with his free hand; which seemed to scare the little being that walked away in rapid steps.   
–The elexian. – Said the Pilgrim, getting their attention back. – Little peaceful folk that help whoever’s in need of it.  
–Do you pay them?  
–What?  
–Otherwise it’s slavery. – Eken was concerned, the Artist felt as her hand gripped hardly on his.  
–Girl. – He laughed sarcastically.  
–Eken. – She said, her eyes stuck on the Pilgrim’s.  
–Eken. – He began again. – Yes, they do work for me. I wouldn’t do such a thing as slavery.  
Feeling the tension, the Artist tried to change the subject, and asked the Pilgrim about his experiments. The idea that the Artist had of multi-dimensional dabbling was an ancient one, from his time on the academy at least five hundred years before that. As he asked, the Pilgrim noticed how he felt that the thing was illegal to say the least; but calmly explained to his fellow Time Lord that with Gallifrey gone, that would be the only way to get it back.   
“So he was a good man.” The Artist thought. Whatever it was that he was doing, it was out of love for his home world, that he wanted back so much. The Pilgrim noticed how deep in his thoughts was the Artist, and with that he touched the Time Lord’s shoulder and said “Come here.” His hand weakened as if it’d leave Eken’s, but the girl gripped it and walked along with them.  
–This, my dear Artsy. – Began the Pilgrim.  
–Artist. – Said the Artist.  
–What I said. – He continued. – Is my laboratory. It has, for decades, been the only source of gallifreyan science alive in the universe where everyone seems to think we Time Lords are just a myth.  
The Artist looked all around, things that had the shape of the console of the TARDIS were built at one side, and then exteriors of Time Capsules were at the other extent of the hall. As they walked the Artist looked at Eken and smiled. She didn’t.  
–I don’t know why you were the one to have captured my distress signal, but it was meant to the Doctor. – He pointed at a big screen at the side of the room. There, an image not moving was present, of a man in a panama hat, bearing in his right hand an umbrella with the grip in the shape of a red question mark.  
–Why’d it have to be him? – Eken asked.  
–He’s got something I need. Something he stole. – The Pilgrim’s eyes were stuck at the screen, at the Doctor’s face. – He’s a criminal, you see.  
–Well, we’re all criminals. – The Artist said joyfully.   
The Pilgrim did not smile.  
–The Doctor shouldn’t be messing with timelines out in the universe. I shouldn’t be stealing art. – He pointed at the Pilgrim, innocently. – You shouldn’t be meddling with other dimensions and things like that.  
The Pilgrim had a serious look on his face.  
–Yes, well. – He forced a smile. – We’re renegades after all.   
The word renegade seemed to hurt him as he spoke.  
–Well, you must be hungry. – He said, joining both hands in a clap.   
–We have food, we’re not homeless. – Eken answered.  
–Eken! – The Artist let go of her hand. – Yes, Pilgrim, we’d like to stay for dinner.  
–Wonderful. – The Time Lord concluded.  
 


	6. Who are you?

The table where the meal was served was big, made of what appeared to be bronze. Entailed in it were symbols, things written in circular gallifreyan. The Artist gently touched the table, a memory of home. Eken looked all around, at the elexian mostly, the little people walked fast delivering food and drinks to the table; eventually, they would look at Eken and laugh at each other, all in a tone almost inaudible. She seemed to enjoy making them laugh.  
As the meal was served, Eken inquired the name of every food. The Pilgrim seemed to not have noticed, but the girl was searching for poisonous food on her database, an important tool given to her as part of a cyborg brain. Seeming that everything was safe, she enjoyed as much as the two men. The Artist brought his curiosity to table and filled the Pilgrim with questions. What chapter was he in? That was the Prydonian, of course. Where was his TARDIS? Lost, unfortunately, broken hundreds of years before. Did he fight in the war? No, for he was stranded in another dimension before the war came to be. What regeneration was he on? That was his third body. They laughed and sang songs dear to their people, and although Eken seemed to suspect that the Pilgrim was up to something, she enjoyed seeing her friend so joyful with someone that wasn’t her.  
It was then that the question came.  
Eken had her mouth full and the Artist was already on his third glass of wine as the Pilgrim inquired.  
–Artist, my friend, I wonder, could I give your TARDIS a look later?   
–Well, I don’t see why… – The Artist was saying, but Eken kicked his leg under the table.   
–What for? – She asked.  
–Well, you see. – He directed his look at her with much effort. – The gallifreyan Time Capsule is not only a machine, it is a…  
–Biological being. – Eken completed. – I’m connected to him.  
–It’s a him?   
–A very stubborn one. – The Artist smiled.  
–Well, anyway. – The Pilgrim poured himself more wine and continued. – It needs maintenance. Yours was in pretty bad shape when it got here.  
–Well, it did suffer some injuries back in the day at the war. – Said the Artist.  
–Yes, you see… – He looked at Eken. – I might have to take a look at its heart.  
The Artist looked at Eken, the girl looked concerned, but angrily turned her face to the other side and picked up more meat.  
–Yes, of course, thank… – The Artist was about to conclude, but Eken interrupted him once more.  
–Tomorrow. – She said. – We’ll sleep first.  
–Well we have plenty of rooms here. – The Pilgrim tried to argue.   
–You see, dear P. – She looked straight at his eyes, and he felt as if she’d murder him with a look. – I like to sleep with my shields on.  
–I understand. – He said after an awkward silence.

After the dinner, he directed one of the elexian to the Camaro, asking it to take the guests to their car. He wished them good night, and said that he’d be working on his science, whatever that meant, if they needed him. Both of them full, the Artist a little dizzy in fact, they walked in silence for a while, but he broke the silence.  
–You really don’t like him. – He was smiling.  
–You’re not mad at me? – Eken asked.  
–Eken, you’re my best friend. – He looked at her. – I trust your judgment.   
–So you do understand that there’s something strange about this guy. – She said that a little too loud.  
The elexian guiding them scoffed.  
–I think you’re overreacting a little, that’s all. – Artist said.  
–Okay, Archie, whatever. – She added. – But let’s at least be there when he touches the car.   
–Oh we will. – He laughed softly. – We will.

The Artist did not sleep that night. Although he seemed to believe that the Pilgrim was indeed a good man, two things he did inside the Camaro when Eken went to sleep.  
Firstly, he spent at least an hour searching for data on the Pilgrim. His DNA was left there as he touched the buttons and levers of the panel. The research did not reveal much; the Time Lord seemed to leave very little marks on the universe, an attitude entirely different from the other Time Lord, the Doctor. Data about the blue box and the travelling man could be found everywhere, and as the Artist read about hundreds of years of lives saved by that strange fellow, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was, indeed, capable of erasing his race from existence.   
The second thing happened at the later hours. The laboratory lights were off, as the Artist observed on the scanner. The great hall had a sinister look given by the little lights blinking everywhere and their reflections on the various dark metals. Then the Artist thought of something that had slipped his mind for at least the past two years that he’d travelled with Eken.  
Daleks screaming with rage and Time Lord Weaponry shooting everywhere were the sounds of those memories that entered his mind. Then the faces of Eoropa and Cewal joined in, and as if a ghost appeared to him right there at his TARDIS, his eyes moved as though they had their own will. For a moment, not a sound was heard, he felt his entire body cold and there it was, at the wall, covered in a beige cloth:   
The painting he’d stolen from museum at Gallifrey.  
Again he felt as the day that his eyes first looked upon it. The painting felt like it had its own will, its own life.  
It wasn’t hanging on the wall like the others, for display and decoration of the beautiful console room. It was covered, as a shame to be hidden. He slipped his fingers on the corner, preparing to pull the cloth, but at that exact moment a sound of steps was heard. He looked back, at the screen of the scanner. It was dark, but he could see that Pilgrim was at the laboratory. In the dark. The Artist walked slowly towards the console and pressed the button that opened the wall sized window. There he gazed at the other Time Lord, just standing there, still, looking at the car from the outside.   
That night, the Artist hid the Gallifreyan Painting at a place where only he would know where.

Eken woke up to the gently touch of the Artist’s hands on her arm.  
–Hey. – She said, sleepy.  
–Hey. – He added, smiling. – Sorry to wake you.  
–What time is it?   
–It’s really kind of relative where we are.  
She looked around, it was her room.  
–What’d you want?  
–I gotta show you something. – He completed. 

He rushed her out of the room. “Come on we won’t go out just come as you are.” He said, waiting for her with the door open. Wearing a small red shorts, a black tank-top and slippers, she followed him through the corridors of the time capsule. The round things on the wall pattern that Eken was so familiar with eventually gave place to walls made of what appeared to be ordinary brick, painted on a ratter old tone of white. "Shit. Archie, how long have we been walking?” She asked him. “We’re not far.” He said, but they walked for at least another fifteen minutes, and eventually Eken asked for them to stop so she’d rest. He looked around, opened a door that appeared to be made of metal. “Okay come in here.” Eken was amazed by what she saw inside, a big telescope, like the ones she saw made out of black metal with golden ornaments.  
–My… – She was speechless. – Why’ve we never been here before?  
The room had the shape of a dome, and it was made out of windows where the stars could be seen. Around there were tables with what appeared to be scrolls, and the walls all around had many shelves with books and quills.   
–It’s kind of pointless, if you think about it. – He pointed at a little red armchair and Eken promptly seated, kind of breathless. – If we want to see a star we can just go to it.  
–Yeah. – She took a deep breath. – When you learn how to fly this thing properly of course.  
He laughed.  
–You’re right.   
–Anyway, it’s nice though. – She said, looking up at the stars out in the window.   
–I’ll bring it closer to the console room if you like.  
–You can do that? – She spoke out loud, surprised.  
–Sure thing. – He smiled.  
–Shit, Archie. Why’s my room like miles away from the kitchen?  
He burst into laughter, and she did too.  
–Get up girl; this is not what I want to show you.

They exited the room a few minutes later, and continued to walk for another five or ten. Finally, the Artist stopped and grabbed her hand.  
–I’ll show you two things that you must remember at all costs.  
–Shoot. – She smiled confident.  
The room that they opened had a big double door, and there was a sign that Eken had seen at least a couple of times at the TARDIS. As if he’d noticed she was wondering about it, the Artist said out loud: “That’s the Seal of Rassilon.” She shook her head silently and they entered it.   
That room was much bigger than the other. In fact, it was more of a hall. That place too had the ceiling in the shape of a dome made of glazing where the stars could be seen.   
–Archie. – She said, and pointed up. – How come we’re seeing the stars if we’re inside that laboratory?  
–Yeah don’t ask me things I won’t know the answer, alright? – He smiled.  
At the center of the room, a small pillar with a circular shape in the middle; the same that was in the door. The Artist placed his right hand on the Seal of Rassilon at the pillar, and the object slowly went down. As if waiting for something to happen he looked around. “So…” Eken said, noticing how troubled he looked. The pillar came back. It was blue before, but now it was red. “Strange.” He said, placing his hand again. The pillar did not move this time. “Oh, I get it.” He looked at her and gently picked up her hand. The Seal of Rassilon immediately became blue when Eken touched it. He smiled. “He likes me more than he likes you.” She smiled, their hands still together on top of the Seal. “Can’t blame him for that.” He smiled too.  
After the pillar went down again, having approved the biological imprint this time, the wall in front of them began to open, and a bright light began to shine. When it opened completely, the light and the buzzing sound were almost unbearable, and the thing that was inside was, to say the least, scary. Eken embraced the Artist’s arm, as he stood still, proudly looking towards it: a gigantic sphere of fire, looking like it was eternally exploding.   
–That is the Eye of Harmony. – He shouted, for that was the only way to surpass the sound. – Brilliant, isn’t it?  
–Certainly brilliant. – She shouted, sarcastically. Her eyes were almost closed.  
–That’s what powers this time vessel! A marvel of Time Lord Engineering!  
–Did you bring sunglasses? – She shouted.  
–Oh yes! Sorry about that. – He took out sunglasses of his pocket and gave to her.  
–What’s it for again?  
–That’s a duplicate, of course. A copy of it, as the original sits at the citadel in Gallifrey. It’s a star, or it used to be one, for now it’s eternally on the brink of death. You could say it’s on the verge of becoming a black hole, but as the Time Lords removed it from space and placed it here, it’s now what gives us the right to enter the Time Vortex.  
–They’re all crazy, heh?  
–What? The stars?  
–You lot, Archie; – She poked his nose. – You Time Lords.  
He looked front again, in silence.  
–Yes, you can say that. – He suddenly clapped twice and the door began to close.

He said that now was time for the second thing to remember. They walked another five minutes, but now, as Eken noticed, they were going back towards the console. At one of the corridors there was a heavy metal door with a sign that said “basement”.   
–Archie! – She laughed, although keeping up the walking. – We’ve a basement?   
He looked back, surprised.  
–Oh yeah, don’t go in there.  
–Why not?  
–I think that plastic-mannequin-thing is still alive in there. – He said with a serious face.  
–Oh shit. – Eken replied, with the same look.

When they finally arrived at their next step, it was a common door, like the one from her room, the kitchen, most bathrooms, the library, the wardrobe and the swimming pool. The Artist stopped at the door with both his hands in it, a dim red light coming from the two round things at the door; they looked just like the ones that filled the walls. He took a deep breath and opened it. Eken was stunned.  
Inside: nothing.   
No, not just nothing: utter nothingness. The absence of anything. All blank, as if there were no walls, no floor, no ceiling.   
–It’s kind of scary, this one. – He said, easing the collar of his shirt.  
–Archie… – She looked straight at it, speechless.   
They both walked in carefully, as if they were going to fall. Eken hugged him from the begind and held tight to his waist.  
–This is the Zero Room.  
She burst into laughter.  
–What? – He asked, laughing too but not understanding why.  
–You’re serious? – She had a big smile on.   
–I am!  
–Zero Room! – She laughed again. – D’you come up with that?  
He was laughing now.  
–No, girl, it’s like… a technical term.  
–Pfft. – She held her laughter now. – Yeah, right, go on.  
–Alright… The Zero Room.  
She laughed again.  
–The… Zero… Room… – He continued. – Is a vital part of the TARDIS. Specially this one, for it was modified to fight in the war.  
She was now jumping around, joyfully, for it seemed fun to walk where there was no floor. He watched in silence, smiling, as the girl ran her big hair danced in the air, her white teeth showing as she laughed.  
–Okay, kid! – He clapped his hands. – Listen!  
–Speak up, grandpa. – She stopped and looked back at him.  
–You remember when I changed. When we met.  
Her smile vanished.  
–Yes, when I got shot. – He continued.  
–Regeneration, isn’t it? – She asked.  
–Yes. Well. In case that happens again.   
She quickly interrupted him there.  
–What’d you mean?  
–Eken…  
–Why’d you change again?  
He sighed.  
–In case anything happens to me… to this body. – He placed both his hands on her arms and looked up straight into her eyes. – You’ve got to bring me here.  
–Why’re you telling me this now? – Her voice cracked a little.  
He didn’t answer.  
–You feel it too, don’t you? – She placed her right hand on his chest and felt both his hearts beating. – You too have a bad feeling about that man! I know you do, then why can’t we just leave? Let’s go back to our travelling on, my dancing and your painting! Why’d you need Gallifrey back anyway?

He didn’t seem to like that last sentence. He let go of her arms and gave her his back. Sighed.   
–Listen, buddy. – He spoke slowly and in a low tone. – I don’t know, okay? I don’t, but I do. I need to help him find our home.  
–Your home is here, with me. – She said firmly.   
He didn’t reply, but in his eyes she saw that his thought was exactly the same as hers.  
–You never speak of Gallifrey, they made you fight in a horrible war even though you were an old man! Don’t you see? You’re free now, free to live your life. Our life!  
–You won’t be here forever. – He shouted harshly.   
–I… – Her eyes filled with tears.  
–A year ago. – His voice was loud and deep, she’d only seen him speak like that a couple of times. – Back at that slave planet, you told me that I’d have to live without you someday.   
–I’m not dead yet!  
–You don’t understand! – He turned to her and his face was covered in tears. – I’m not like you. I don’t think like you, I don’t eat or sleep or breathe like you! Whenever my feet touch anything that’s not this car’s floor I can feel the turn of the planet. I can feel time passing and time’s a monster that keeps on taking away everything, unstoppably!   
She was quiet, crying.  
–I walk in eternity. – He concluded, also crying.

She went closer to him and with her mouth kissed his forehead. He leaned his head to her breast and they hugged there for a moment of silence and tears. 

–But I want you to stay. – He said, softly. – I’ll do anything for you to stay.  
–I will. – She tenderly fondled his hair. Tears still rolled down her face. – What’d you be without me?  
He looked at her and smiled.  
–Still an old man, I guess.  
She laughed.  
–Or dead!  
–Yes. – He laughed too. – That seems more likely.   
–Can I go back to sleep now? – She said, letting go of his arms, wiping the tears from her face. – We’ve walked for hours.  
He looked at the watch on his wrist, too wiping the tears from his face.   
–It’s been six minutes since I woke you.  
–What? – She screamed.


	7. Il Est Cinq Heures, Paris S'eveille

When morning came, the first light of the two blue suns of the Elexis Solar System shone upon Pilgrim’s laboratory, and there, as promised, was he: waiting for the door of the Camaro to open.   
Eken arose rather late in the morning, as the Artist had not disturbed her after their little walk hours before and nor did she set an alarm. She took a long hot shower, brushed her teeth, got dressed and went to the kitchen. There she prepared hot chocolate and served a plate with waffles.   
At the console room, the Artist was painting what appeared to be one of the elexian, with a blue skin and a big smile; the one that guided them to the dining room the night before. Eken greeted him good morning, and received little to no answer, and she was used to that whenever he was immersed in his art.   
She ate her breakfast quietly, sitting right beside him. The only sounds to be heard were the paintbrush touching the canvas, her mouth chewing the waffles and a song that came from the screen of the console; 

He came on a summer's day  
Bringin' gifts from far away  
But he made it clear he couldn't stay  
No harbor was his home 

which Eken identified as being from Earth, as many of the things they both enjoyed.

As soon as she swallowed the last bite of her waffles, the Artist placed the toothbrush on a little cup with water and looked at her with a smile.  
–Pretty. – She said, still chewing, as she looked at his painting.  
–A little too blue, I’d say.   
He still looked at the painting, but as he said that he looked at her and smiled like someone who was holding a big laughter.  
–You might want to open the window. – He said.  
She didn’t know what he meant by that, but in a jump she ran to the console and opened the wall-sized window.  
There stood the Pilgrim. Arms crossed as were his eyebrows. He seemed really impatient. Eken laughed really loud and looked at the Artist, which too smiled.  
–What a nerd! – She said.  
–He stood there all night. – He replied.  
–And you didn’t open?   
–I was waiting for you, sleepyhead.   
–Well, my belly’s full and I smell like roses. – She said, rubbing both hands on each other. – Let’s do this.

As soon as the Artist pressed a button on the console they saw Pilgrim running towards the car, seconds later the seats came down and he smiled at them.  
–Good morning, my friends! – Even his voice sounded like he was bursting with joy, contradicting the look on his face outside minutes before.  
Eken noticed that although he seemed to know what he was doing, by waiting for her to be there, the Artist was genuinely happy to see Pilgrim.   
–What I’ll do, if you’d both join me; – he pointed at the console. – is guide you both through a quick evaluation of what’s been wrong with your TARDIS.  
–Who said there’s anything with him? – Eken did her best not to sound sarcastic, but indeed curious.  
–Well… – He seemed troubled. – I seem to recall it not starting just last night.  
–Yeah bot me and him, pal. – She said.  
–Hopefully we’ll get to that too. – He looked at the Artist. – Time is our friend.   
They both smiled at each other. She didn’t.

A lot of random instructions about time and supernovas and Gallifreyan Technology were discussed that morning, and Eken noticed that the brain of a Time Lord seemed to work as fast as her cyborg one; though she’d eventually caught up for everything the Pilgrim said was stored in her brain as vividly as any memory.   
When it finally came for the Pilgrim to mess around the TARDIS’s circuits, Eken frowned and whispered something in the Artist’s ear. Pilgrim didn’t hear it but she was telling him to be careful. She grabbed a bag of cookies and sat at the sofa, looking at them both working on the wires under the console.   
After quite some hours, Eken slept at the sofa, but was woken up by a tap in the knee that the Artist gave her. He and Pilgrim had just finished working on the console when the man said:  
–Can you take me to the Eye of Harmony?   
–Yes. – The Artist answered, without hesitation.   
–It’s… too far… – Eken said, doing her best to come up with a good excuse.  
–Well, I think... – Archie began walking towards the corridors. – It’ll be a rather fun little tour.  
As they crossed the first corner, three bicycles awaited.  
–Okay. – She seemed almost mad. – Since WHEN do we have those?  
–They were in the basement. – He smiled.  
–Wonderful! – The Pilgrim joyfully exclaimed. – Primitive vehicles.   
They rode for a while, stopping minutes later at a door which Eken hadn’t noticed before. “I believe this is the arsenal’s room.” Said the Pilgrim. “Yes.” The Artist continued. “There’s a lot of weapons inside, most of them were in the console room, something normal, for a warship, I suppose. Moved them all from there in my first days here.” He’d never told Eken about that. “It’s… You don’t like guns?” Pilgrim asked. “Well, it’s not that I don’t like guns. Guns can be pretty useful, if you think about it. They’re just not good to look at as the paintings which now surround the console.” The Artist answered.  
When they got to the Eye of Harmony, the procedure from the night before was replicated, only that time Eken went first to the pillar and placed her hand. The Artist had a calm look as he looked straight on where the Eye would appear, but the Pilgrim had his on Eken’s hand. The girl suddenly looked at him, which made eye contact with her. His eyes were blue and his entire face had the air of seriousness, not letting out a single emotion. She took sunglasses out of her pocket and looked straight ahead. 

Pilgrim was quiet all the way back. When the Eye of Harmony opened he was silent, and stayed like this till they reached the console room.   
–Well… – He finally said. – I’m sure… – He was speaking slowly, his mind and his eyes were distant at that moment. – You’ll both stay a little longer.  
–Yes. – Of course Eken frowned at that comment from the Artist.  
–I have a few… errands… to attend, you’re very welcome to roam through the building, if you’d like. – He said, seating on the seats of the car. – And at night we’ll dine like yesterday.   
He went up, and at the window they saw him speak to one of the elexian outside, and then throw himself in a chair, typing things on a computer.  
–All is well. – Said the Artist.  
–I ain’t buying it. – Eken let out.

 


	8. When I smile, tell me some bad news.

The elexian were common folk. Simple, to say the least. They resembled bugs, with little antennas and pretty shiny black eyes. Each of them had a color of their own, a fact that made their race wonderfully colorful. Their hair varied in color and aspect too, which they molded in the most unusual haircuts. They had four limbs, just like the humans, the dronidians and the gallifreyans; arms and legs with hands and feet with four fingers each.  
Aliens had long before arrived at Elexer-1 and Elexer-2. Along with Elexer-3, the three planets were famous for their resources, and its people famous for their helping hands. When Pilgrim arrived at Elexer-3 he had no ship, no money, and no name. They gave him everything and he gave them a purpose.  
The Pilgrim, as his name, which was the one that the elexian had given him stated, was a person who journeys to a sacred place for religious reasons. The elexian were happy to find out that their own personal alien scientist had friends. The boy Artist and the girl Eken were strange people, much different from the Pilgrim. Those two, in the other hand, specially the female one for that fact, only seemed to be there to eat and drink. It was strange yet very funny when they began to roam through the complex with their long legs and eccentric clothes.  
The complex where lived the Pilgrim was, for the elexian and the two guests, wonderful. Full of stairs and windows of the most magnificent size. The planet outside seemed sleepy, as if all the life in it was inside the building. Along with them many elexian that seemed to have nothing better to do accompanied with no protest from the aliens. The girl eventually made strange sounds, as if the air from her lungs was not there. She placed her hands on her knees and looked at them, scared yet laughing at the strange creature. She laughed too. The boy, whoever, seemed to be much like their Pilgrim. He, like him, was a male, short in stature, pale in skin; never tired, with an aura of intelligence emanating from his body. 

–What’d you think about if we talked to them? – Eken asked the Artist.  
–What, the little things? – He smiled. – They seem to be as clueless as we are.  
–Well, they’d have noticed if he was up to something, don’t you think?   
–I’m sure we can find out on our own.   
–Alright, boss. – She said sarcastically. 

They eventually found a balcony, where they seated and observed the light of the sun. The elexian quickly came to their aid, with little cups of drinks and plates of fruit. They recommended a slow drinking because alcohol was one of the ingredients. Both Eken and the Artist laughed, and joyfully invited the elexian to stay there by their side and talk. Some of them were alarmed by the invite, but some quickly grabbed chairs and seated too. Sometime after, when the Artist looked at the mountains, he placed down his cup and looked at the elexian that were seated. Their little antennas seemed troubled by the look on his face.  
–Say. – He started. – When we arrived at this planet I tried to reach the mountains.  
They all gasped, as if in deep terror.  
–What? – Eken laughed. – What’s up with the mountains?  
One of them, with a purple skin, looked at his friends and then looked at the Artist.  
–One most never go to the mountains. – He said, his antennas trembling.  
–Why? – Asked Eken.  
–One never knows, but common knowledge it is.   
–Common… – She grabbed another cup of the drinks without finishing the sentence and looked at the mountains.   
–Say, little folk; – Artist spoke – I also saw towers. What are they for?  
–Yes, power comes from them to the laboratory. – Replied one with a pink skin.  
–Makes sense, that was a stupid question. – Eken answered, but no one was paying attention to her but one or two elexian at the back, that laughed at the way she held the cup.  
–There’s something else. – The Artist picked up a little book, like a small diary, from the pocket of his overall. From his shoe he took out a pencil. He began sketching, the elexian and Eken were curious to know whatever it was that he was doing.  
When he showed up the drawing they all gasped again.  
–So you do know what this is? – He seemed startled as they were.  
The picture showed an octagonal desk, full of levers and buttons, with a cylinder in the middle; surrounded by circles in a pattern.  
–One must not go there. – Said the purple skinned one.  
–That’s a TARDIS. – Said Eken picking up the drawing. – Why’d you ask them about a TARDIS?  
–There’s TARDIS wreckage in the wastelands. – He looked concerned.  
The elexian began to get up from their chairs and scatter away little by little.  
–One’s got to be his; they’re the only way he could’ve left Gallifrey in the first place. But there were at least two where I found them. He was alone out there.   
–I’m drunk. – She replied.  
In front of them, only one of the elexian remained; one with red skin.  
–Be careful, both of you. – The little creature said. – It is better to be friends with the Pilgrim than to be enemies.  
–Why’d you say that? – The Artist asked.  
The elexian said not a word more. He got up and walked away rapidly.   
She could barely hold her laughter.   
–Okay. – The Artist sighed and let out a little laugh.  
–You say it or I say it? – She was smiling a lot.  
–Go ahead.  
She punched his shoulder and laughed even louder.  
–In your face, Time Lord! – She said, laughing; hugging him and throwing her body on his. – Told you.  
 


	9. Boum Boum Boum

–I say we get in the car and go! – Eken said. – We’ve done it before, there’s nothing wrong with running when we’re probably being kidnapped by a space nerd.  
–Come on; don’t tell me you’re not at least a little curious. – He replied to her.  
They were both going towards the car, anyway. Even though the Artist’s plan was not to dematerialize, they’d need something that was there.   
When they reached the laboratory, the Pilgrim was not there, though he could be seen manipulating shiny objects at the other side of a big window pane. They silently walked towards the car, and the Artist pointed at the trunk; Eken understood right away. Though the hoverbike was there, they needed access to the other side of the huge metal door of the laboratory, and the only way seemed to be politely asking the Pilgrim to open it.   
–Archie! – Eken whispered; her hands on the hoverbike’s handlebars. – I’m scared!  
–No you’re not. – He smiled, also whispering.  
–Worth a try. – She laughed. –I just want to go.  
It was not hard to politely ask an elexian to open the door; they seemed very cooperative after the little talk earlier under the sun. The hoverbike’s sound rapidly flowing through the wasteland was tranquil and as Eken drove, the Artist looked behind. She was a much better driver than he was, and in no time they got where he wanted them to be.  
The TARDIS waste where he found himself had the same sinister appearance even though it had now the light of the sunset above. The Artist seemed particularly sad by that view, as Eken noticed it took him a while to walk towards it. That was, as he let her know, the first of two scraps he’d seen before.   
They walked towards the octagonal panel that had once been that TARDIS’ console. Eken touched it and looked at the Artist. He was walking under the console and trying to open it with no tools.   
–You know what would be useful there? – Eken smiled.  
–Don’t start with the screwdriver talk, smartass. She was considerably stronger than him, as was proved when she easily opened the console scrap after much of his effort.  
–You think you can do it? – He asked.  
–It seems old, but I’ll try, buddy.  
–Easy, okay? – He seemed worried. – Back off if you think it’ll, I don’t know, blow you brains out.  
She laughed. “Yeah, no problem.” And with a smile she pulled what appeared to be a cable from under the console. Most of the circuits were severely damaged, like the wires had burned. While she tried to connect with the circuits, the Artist observed the giant wastes that were the remains of that time capsule. He wasn’t saddened by it, he was scared. All the walls and windows, machinery he’d never seen before. Just waiting there to rot.  
Eken was in her sleep-like state, her eyes distant; leaning onto the console with her hand on the wires. As the two suns went down, light began to be scarce and he remembered that the two of them weren’t the only living thing out in those wastelands; and soon enough there would be no light to protect them. He’d brought a gun with him, but that seemed to be of no use against the shadow things that surrounded his car before.  
She gasped. He ran towards her and placed his right arm around her shoulders and with his left touched her face.   
–What is it? – He was nervous, Eken looked like all the color of her face vanished.  
–It’s… – She gasped, touching his hands and trying hard to catch her breath. – It’s his. His TARDIS.  
–What is it? What’d you see? – He went as pale as she was just by looking at her.  
–Calm… – She slapped his hand. – Calm the fuck down, grandpa.  
He took a deep breath.  
–It’s his TARDIS. I saw things… Men dressed in dreadful clothes and hats.  
–Oh my god, Gallifrey! – He exclaimed.  
–They treated him very badly, the Pilgrim. And then he was in… – She looked like she was thinking very hard. – He was a kid. He… he was stuck somewhere. Alone.  
–Where? Alone at Gallifrey?  
–No, Archie. It wasn’t a planet… there was just the TARDIS. – She looked at him. – It doesn’t say much after this point. The phrase “dimensional malfunction” keeps bugging me.

They both got up as the Artist observed their time was running out. They went over to the hoverbike and drove where the Artist remembered were the remains of the other TARDIS. “Couldn’t it be the same TARDIS?” Eken pointed out. “I thought about it, different consoles but same TARDIS. I think we’ve gotta check though.” He answered.   
The Artist was amazed by what he’d missed because the darkness omitted it before. The waste of the other TARDIS was definitely not as old as the previous; and an enormous tower, half hidden under the sand could be seen. As they grew closer towards it, Eken gasped and pointed out it was not a tower; it was a clock. She touched the console and the Artist looked around. That console had many more buttons. The walls with the circles pattern were black. Eken walked over towards it and quickly began trying to open the place where the wires were. She had no trouble pulling the little metal piece, and warning the Artist with only a serious look, she touched it and fell leaning onto it.  
He looked at the mountains and then at the little point where was the building of Pilgrim’s laboratory. Both seemed distant.   
–Archie… – Eken said, in a low tone. She did not look pale or scared now, but she did seem shocked. – This one… There’s not much record from when it landed here; nor what happened to the guy that owned it.  
–Guy?  
–It was a bad guy. – She touched the console and looked at it slowly. – He did bad stuff. Killed people, allied with evil beings. He was a Time Lord, of course…  
–What was he like?  
–Eccentric, evil-looking, really; but there’s this thing: this TARDIS was basically set to automatically pursue the Doctor.   
He didn’t blink a second after hearing that name again. Looking into her eyes he was silent and with a grim look on his face.   
–Was there a name? To the evil guy.  
–Yeah… Hum… – She got up, shaking off the sand from her legs. – The Master.  
–Oh man…   
–You know him?  
–Only things I heard back at the museum. – He had a distant look in his eyes. – That guy’s a runaway, a renegade, one of the worst, really.  
–You guys produce psychopaths like you produce time machines, I swear.   
–Maybe he’s friends with the Doctor?  
–The record states that he was constantly stopped by the Doctor, so I don’t think they were best buddies.   
–There anything about what happened to him here?  
She looked concerned.  
–What?  
–Dimensional malfunction. 

The Artist looked around. It was, and that took him a little while to notice as he was completely lost in thoughts, getting dark fast. “We should go.” He said, and as Eken drove away in the direction of Pilgrim’s Laboratory he looked at the enormous silhouette of the clock vanish. In his head things weren’t so simple. The elexian had a hidden fear of Pilgrim, sure, but that only meant they knew what he was, a Time Lord. An ancient civilization once respected and feared all across the universe; now reduced to a myth. With that said, they outnumbered him; whatever it was they feared could be beaten if they decided to overthrow the Pilgrim.   
However, they did not fear either him or Eken; and even seemed to like them, as they came to the point of warning them about their master. Master. The Master. There was the fact that the TARDIS waste just standing dead there was a time capsule piloted by an evil Time Lord. That Master had a reputation from himself, leaving Gallifrey way before the days of the war, and being not only executed by daleks, but brought back to life by the Time Lords to fight in the war; as he heard Eoropa comment with a few soldiers back at museum one day.  
Eken noticed how silent the Artist was; only the sound of the hoverbike could be heard across the desert. A cold breeze gave her the impression that they would both soon feel cold, and moments later she noticed that the Artist was hugging tighter as his arms were around her waist. “Are you okay?” She shouted to be heard. No answer. He fumbled with his fingers that were on top of her belly; as if to let her know he was there.

Moments later they arrived at the building.  
–D’you have a plan? – She said.  
–We go there and pretend nothing happened. – He replied.  
–Good enough for me. – She concluded.

“Hey-yo, fuckhead!” Eken shouted as soon as the door opened and she localized the Pilgrim. 

–Excuse me? – He replied, concerned, at the other side of the hall.   
Eken went in heavy steps towards him, and the Artist tried to get a grip of her hand but the girl directed herself towards the Pilgrim. The car was in the same spot they’d left him. Not an inch moved.   
The Artist noticed, though, that a line of elexian was formed in front of the Pilgrim. They were all standing still and with blank looks on their faces. As soon as Eken crossed the hall they started to make strange and random movements around the place.   
When Eken got to him she raised her right hand open, as if to grab Pilgrim’s arm. Soon as she did that she stopped. The Artist could only see her back, and he was, indeed, about to ask her to stop; but as soon as she did it felt completely wrong to do so, then he shouted “MOVE!” to her. She did not move.   
The Pilgrim looked at the Artist; with calm smile in his face. He ran towards his friend, that was standing still in front of the other Time Lord. And when he got to her his face went pale. She was standing still motionless, with her eyes closed. Before doing anything else, the Artist leaned over to her chest, and fortunately her heart was beating.  
–My, my… – The Pilgrim said, the tone on his voice was calm and sarcastic, almost joyful. – Archie… you really have to teach some manners to this big ape of yours.  
–What did you do to her? – He was nervous; he could already feel the cold sweat dripping from under his arms.   
His hands leaned to his belt, where the Pilgrim then noticed was a laser gun.  
Before his hands could reach the belt, one of the elexian jumped and grabbed the gun. His little legs rapidly ran towards the Pilgrim and gave him the gun.  
–Calm down, my friend. – He said, looking at the gun and then back to the Artist. – What’s this fuss all about?  
–WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER? – The Artist screamed. –I paused her. – He pulled his sleeve up, to show a little holographic wristwatch, which seemed to have controls and little buttons. – Calm down, tell me what’s up I’m sure you’ll agree to talk.

He took a deep breath and looked at the car, which even though was just a couple steps away seemed to be so far now that the situation was a dangerous one. 

–I saw your TARDIS.   
The Pilgrim went pale. For a moment his emotionless face seemed to show despair.  
–Oh. – He looked at the car too, then back at the Artist. – The poor thing. Yes. It was… well. It’s in the past now.  
–The other one. – He let go of Eken’s hand, which he was holding for a long moment now; and slowly went towards the Pilgrim. – That one wasn’t yours.  
The Pilgrim’s face was slowly turning red. They were both really close to each other now.  
–No. – He didn’t move even though the Artist was moving towards him. With a sarcastic smile he continued: – Tipe 45, if I recall?   
Silent, the Artist looked uncomfortable being so close to the face of the Pilgrim, but both of them just stood there for a second. In silence. He though deeply as to what his next question was going to be. He thought of the Master. Then he thought of the planet’s desert. But then, as it seemed clear, almost obvious; he thought of the blue box.  
–What do you want with the Doctor?  
 


	10. See me.

His feet slowly moved as he walked in line as if his legs did not want to proceed to whatever was to come. Step after step his hands began to shiver even more. His eyes were shut at the children in front of him, each wearing black and white robes. All of them did the same thing: they walked and looked at the round big machine in front of them. Most of them just walked back, as if what they saw was nothing to be alarmed, but when his time came, he knew he was different and that was about to be proved.  
–You will now look into the Untempered Schism; – said a tall old man, wearing black and white robes. – The Schism reveals the knowledge that we Time Lords shall carry with us throughout all our lives. Most of us see the entirety of time, but the Vortex stores different fates to each one of the Gallifreyans. Are you ready?  
The night was particularly dark, as if the stars had left the place that day and nothing remained but the sound of the wind crossing the mountains. He shivered for a second, swallowed his spit and said in a low tone:  
–I am.  
A big lever was pulled by the tall elder, and a hissing sound could be heard coming from the machine. Something was forming inside. He then gasped for air, and wanted to ask for help, but as his lips moved, – I… – he said, then nothing else.  
There it was. A sound louder than anything he’d ever heard, but his ears did not want to give it up, the sound was beating like a hammer constantly hitting metal and the lights on his eyes were forming colors he never imagined possible. Yes, colors and light and sound and time and everything that ever was or could ever be was in front of him. It was incredible, he felt uncomfortable and confortable at the same time, happy and sad simultaneously, as if his body was drifting through nothing physical, just imagination; as if disbelief was something he’d touch with the slow movement of his fingers.  
–Done. – The voice of the man was heard and he saw only the dark metal of the machine.   
He looked at his hands and felt something he’d never felt before, like that this body he’d seen was no longer himself.  
–How are you? – The elder asked.  
Words could not describe what he was feeling, and not a word he said. He put his hands down and looked at the elder with a smile, then went in the direction of the group that, as he did, had seen the Time Vortex. He stood there, the voices of the other children speaking only passed his ears, but that was not worthy of his attention anymore.  
–I swear to protect the ancient Law of Gallifrey with all my might and brain. I will to the end of my days, with justice and with honour temper my actions and my thoughts. – All the children said.   
“Temper my actions and my thoughts.” He thought to himself. He let out laughter, but quickly turned to the other side of the great hall when the other children looked at him. He stopped to think and looked at his hands once more. He had not seen time or space like those other common fools; he’d seen the entirety of the multiverse.   
 


	11. Feel me.

It took him a thousand years to become part of the High Council, a notorious member of the Prydonian Chapter. He was, above all, a man of science, and as many remarked, be the next Rassilon. That sure was his plan. He dedicated life to the study of the many different dimensions, always keeping to himself the theories he’d found. The Great Library of the Citadel was more of a home to him than the house where he kept his belongings. Being more than once offered the chance to become captain of a Time Fleet, he kept refusing opportunities many gallifreyans couldn’t even dream of, telling them he had “bigger things planned”.   
Of course, that respect came to find itself disappearing over the years. The members of the High Council were never interested in whatever he had to say. To them, the biological science of Regeneration, or the multiple applications of the transcendental dimension were all he should keep his head on, but he wanted more.  
After two thousand years his eyes looked not at Gallifrey anymore, but at stars in their multitudes. In contact with a few of the outsiders, he built himself a little barn outside the citadel, and that was only one more reason to the members of the High Council to despise him. – “How could he? A respected member of the Council, having business with outsiders; with renegades!” They said behind his back. – Many regenerated, but he was getting old, not caring about his appearance or his status in the Time Lord Society; only about his science.  
The day came where his research was complete, now he was no longer the beautiful young man that once astonished the teachers at the Academy, he was a little old man, his hair scarce, his hands thin. The High Council was thrilled to hear what hundreds of years of research could finally present. He had a smile on his wrinkled face, and carried a holographic box with him, towards the great hall where he’d been set to present. The table was composed of five members of the High Council, the ones that, along with him, were responsible for the science and technology of the oldest civilization of the universe. When he turned the box on, thousands of numbers and letters appeared on thin air, planets and stars spinning fast around the ceiling, the Time Lords impressed by the vastness of things encoded there.  
–As you can see. – He began speaking.   
–You… – One of the Time Lords interrupted him. – What is this?  
–This, my dear. Is the multiverse! – He said, opening his arms as one would to hug their dearest person.   
–We are perfectly aware of that. – Another Time Lord spoke, his voice seemed angry.  
–You are aware that… – a Time Lady said, her eyes stuck on the holograms, her hands trembling.   
–Yes! I am! But if you listen to me… – He said, but was again interrupted.  
–Listen to you? – The Time Lord rose from his chair. – What you’ve done is against the ancient law!  
He now began sweating cold; his small hands too were trembling.   
–That… –He had a hard time speaking, seeming to have no air on his lungs. – That’s what the law is: it’s ANCIENT! – He shouted.  
–How dare you? – The Time Lady spoke.  
–You’re one of us, you’re intelligent, why make the same mistakes that our hero, Omega, made one day? – A small old Time Lord on the audience spoke.  
–That’s the thing! – He pointed at a small set of numbers on the hologram. – I’ve figured out Omega’s mistake on his experience!  
–His experience… – Said the Time Lady.  
–It went sour! – Spoke another Time Lord.  
–He was erased! – Shouted the small man on the audience.  
–Why… – He gripped his clothing, one hand on the holographic box and the other on his chest.   
–Are you alright? ¬¬– The Time Lady asked, running from her chair towards him.   
–Why… – He gasped. – Won’t you listen to me?  
His hands became pale all of sudden, as his eyes closed and the expression on his face was one of pain, as if both his hearts were beating faster than he could handle.   
–You are to be exiled! – Shouted someone at the audience.  
–Would you stop? He’s going to… – The Time Lady tried to say, but was once more interrupted.   
–Those theories of yours break our fundamental laws and are to be destroyed. – One Time Lord at the examining board said calmly.   
–NO! – He said, his legs trembling and his hands with a strange dim white light. – Listen to me! Please! – He fell on the floor.   
–We will not! That is ridiculous. Thousands of years after Omega gave us the power to travel through time! – Shouted the Time Lord that first repressed him. – Isn’t that enough?!  
–TIME IS NOT ENOUGH! – He shouted, and the light of his hands shined brighter and stronger.   
–There you go! – Screamed someone at the audience.  
–Serves you right! – Someone else said.  
His hearts were beating so fast, his body emanating light from all over, endless tears coming out of his eyes and the last thing he saw was the Time Lady shouting for help. A fuss on the entire audience, as the examining board tried to grip the box against the Time Lady’s protest. He closed his eyes with the excruciating pain as both his hearts stopped.

He woke up not remembering who he was; his vision was blurry as he noticed only red sand in front of him. Everywhere he looked there was nothing to be seen. He wore familiar long red robe, but his body was strange, as if it was not his own, smaller than previously noted; his legs were slowly recovering their movement. He recognized a few grey trees, and the path between them was familiar too. But he remembered him as a man, then an old man, crossing that path; now he was a child.   
His eyes were strange, as if they’d from time to time show him things that were not where he was. He looked around and saw trees, then a moment after he saw people walking around, strange, different people with all kinds of shapes and colors. He screamed for help but they were as a failing hologram. One moment there, then trees and desert. Stars, supernovas, bursts of light, then sand and silvery leaves.   
Finally after walking around for days, he saw a little barn, all alone on the vastness of the desert. It appeared to be nothing peculiar about it, but as he opened the door, a holographic scan went from head to toe. “BIOLOGICAL IMPRINT CONFIRMED.” Said a man’s voice coming out of thin air. The barn’s floor moved, and the leaves and hay appeared to burst into electricity. As an elevator, the floor slowly went down. He was scared, for he did not know where he was or who he was. But then the vision of a huge laboratory, full of machines and boards, appeared. “WELCOME HOME.” The voice said. He suddenly remembered who he was, what he wanted, and what his own kind had done to him. Looking at his young skin, touching buttons at the computers, he remembered the multiverse and then realized what the things he was seeing were. Not ghosts, not memories, but the dimensional distortions there in his eyes. He smiled. He knew exactly what to do.   
As the High Council assembled at the Panopticon of the Citadel, the walls began to shake, leaving everyone startled. The globe of the Capitol was making a strange sound, as if the ancient glass was about to break. At the museum, an old curator shivered as the art was threatened by the movements of the ground. The troops of soldiers went outside and Time Capsules arose from their garages. All of Gallifrey went outside to see whatever was happening. With a burst of light and a deafening sound, a hole opened between the clouds of the vast orange sky. There, a Time Traveling Capsule in the shape of a red box, made almost entirely of what appeared to be rubies, appeared out of nowhere. It was not an ordinary materialization, it was surrounded by thunder and lightning, and then the door opened, and beholding the citadel was the kid, the young man they’d exiled.   
–BEHOLD! TIME LORDS OF GALLIFREY! – He shouted. – EYESIGHT TO THE BLIND!  
–TROOPS! – Shouted a guard and energy guns were fired, but the ship seemed to be surrounded by some kind of energy field, as if it and the hole in the sky were not there but somewhere else.  
–I WILL SHOW YOU WHAT I CAN DO! YOU ALL FELT THREATENED BY ME AND MY SCIENCE, BUT YOU WILL NOW WITNESS TIME LORD TECNOLOGY AT ITS PEAK. – He continued to scream, and it would’ve been funny to see a kid shouting like that if not for the immense vastness of stars at the hole in the sky.  
When he ran inside, all the Gallifreyans screamed and ran around, the sound of the guns firing and the loud breaking glass sound filled the air with despair. The boy pressed buttons and laughed, looking at the multiple screens inside his ship.  
–GALLIFREY WILL BE MOVED TO A NEW DIMENSION! – He screamed at the door again, his voice being heard within the entire Capitol.  
The High Council stared hopelessly at the sky, only fearing that the glass would soon enough break.  
–IN ABOUT… – He shouted, but that was the last they heard of him. The hole in the sky closed all of sudden, in a moment.  
The deafening sound stopped, not a wall moving, nor the ground shaking.  
–He… – Said one of the old Time Lords at the High Council.  
–Yes. – Continued another. – It’s Omega all over again.  
 


	12. Touch me.

It took him years to figure out where he was. Not because his TARDIS wasn’t working, but because its coordinates showed he was nowhere inside the normal universe. Things flashed through his eyes: the first time he looked into the Untempered Schism, then the Time Lords rejecting his study on multiple dimensions, then his regeneration. Not to mention the snaps of stars and bursts of light happening billions of years away from him, that flashed his vision as if part of his natural biology.  
What went wrong? Why wasn’t Gallifrey transported with him? The shield of the TARDIS, the dimension to which towards they were heading, everything was running through his mind. He touched the controls, but the TARDIS wouldn’t dematerialize. He decided his only other option was to open the doors and step out, to which he did with much resistance. What he saw were not stars, not a planet, not a black hole, but pure utter blackness. All was dark. He stepped out, but as if an invisible wall was millimeters in front of the Time Capsule’s door, he hit it and fell back.   
Running back to the console, his small hands ran to the keyboard and typed multiple codes, nothing seemed to work and soon enough the Cloister Bell was heard, which made him particularly nervous. Slowly, he started to rationalize his situation, as he always thought to be the right thing to do when there seemed to be no ways out.

He’d have to work with only the things he had in his TARDIS to make it work.  
He never lost count of his age.  
Two hundred years he spent alone.

An implosion of the Eye of Harmony, the heart of the TARDIS did the trick, and soon enough he was back to his original dimension. Swore to take vengeance to the Time Lords he typed the coordinates that he never forgot, that lead to Gallifrey at the Constellation of Kasterborous. Where the planet should be was an empty space, with only stars and eventual pieces of junk floating around. No home, no purpose, not one friend or a family. All alone, with the power to cross the boundaries from one dimension to another with the touch of a button; there was nowhere to go but the vastness of space in search of a meaning to his life.   
He became the Pilgrim.  
 


	13. I don’t need to be forgiven.

–The Hand of Omega. – The Pilgrim told the Artist. His face was red with anger, cold sweat dripping from his forehead. – You don’t realize, do you?  
–Why’d you need it? – The Artist’s hands were trembling.  
–You’re too dumb to realize.  
–What are you talking about?  
–WE’RE IN ANOTHER DIMENSION, ARTIST!   
–SEE IF I GIVE A FUCK, PILGRIM! – The Artist punched Pilgrim’s face.  
He quickly pointed the gun to the Artist’s head.  
–I’m trying to bring that idiot here for centuries! That stupid Doctor! So far I only managed to bring the stupid one with the dreadful beard and you. Two idiots! Not the one idiot that I need!  
–I have a TARDIS you creep! We could leave this place!  
–ANOTHER DIMENSION, ARTIST! – He shouted and pressed the gun on Artist’s head. – This ridiculous planet is all there is here. We can’t leave this pocket dimension unless I blow up the Eye of Harmony in your TARDIS!   
–So that was your plan?   
–I was going to ask you politely if it hadn’t been for your pet over there!  
The Artist kicked the Pilgrim’s stomach. The gun flew from his hand and fired towards the wall as it hit the floor.   
–She’d fuck up if she was awake! – The Artist screamed.   
As he hit the he coughed and spat blood. For a moment the Artist looked at the gun, but realized he didn’t need it anymore. The Pilgrim looked down and smiled. A strange smile. He then began to laugh. A sinister laghter that begans lows and grows in sound and manner.  
–You’re just like them. – He looked at the Artist and tears arose from his blue eyes. – Just like all the other stupid Time Lords. You don’t see, no; you don’t. You’re all blind, all of you. The stars, the fourth dimension; it all became meaningless when I came to be.   
–What are you talking about? – The Artist was concerned to say the least.  
–Tell me, Artist, what did you see when you looked at the Untempered Schism?  
–I… – The Artist didn’t know what to say. He thought for a while and looked down at the injured Pilgrim. He then looked back, slowly, and saw Eken’s face. – I saw how beautiful the universe can be if you know where to look.  
–Fuck you. – Pilgrim replied.  
–Fuck you! – The Artist kicked his stomach once more. – ‘The fuck did you see?  
–I saw the future, dipshit! – Pilgrim said as loud as he could with blood coming out of his mouth. – I saw everything that ever was and ever will be. I saw multiple universes, all of them. One where you never left Gallifrey, one where I never left Gallifrey, one where that stupid Doctor didn’t go out to the stars and screwed with daleks and cybermen, one where Rassilon lost the war against Yssgaroth; – his voice was becoming slowly louder – I saw zygons, the Silence, Zagreus.   
–Shut up! – Artist said, now terrified.   
–I SEE EVERYTHING! – The Pilgrim shouted and even though he lay weak on the floor his voice made the room trembled as if hundreds of people spoke at the same time. – MY EYES BURN EACH TIME I CLOSE THEM BECAUSE ALL THAT EVER WAS AND EVER WILL BE IS THE DARKNESS INSIDE THEM! I AM THE UNIVERSE, ARTIST, I AM THE FATE OF YOUR EXISTANCE.   
He looked at the car.  
–Don’t you dare run away. – The Pilgrim said.   
–Bring her back. – The Artist pointed at Eken. – Bring her back or I’ll beat the shit out of you.   
He got up and pressed something on the wristwatch. Eken suddenly came back to her senses. The Artist went to her and prepared to explain the situation. “I heard everything.” She replied. She went to the Pilgrim and punched his face. The girl was, indeed, way stronger than her fellow Time Lord.   
–It was him that made me pass out when we first arrived here. He’s got something that messes with circuits. – She was walking around with her arms crossed, her eyes rapidly moving as she looked everywhere. – Like a magnetic field or something. That’s why I and the car first fell asleep.   
–That is correct. – The Pilgrim said, with his right hand in his face, which was now red with not only anger but with bruises also. – I had to. I’m sorry, but…  
–You’re not sorry! – Eken stopped him.  
–I don’t want to be trapped here forever! – He shouted back.  
–Archie may have not noticed but I know what you’re doing here!   
–You do? – Both Time Lords asked at the exact same time.  
–He thinks he’s a god, Archie. – She looked at the Pilgrim with a grim look on her face. – Where’d you buy your plan, the Generic Villain Shop?  
The Pilgrim was laughing, he seemed to be enjoying himself, but it was a sad laugh for those who heard it. At the hall, not only the three of them stood still. As the screaming, shouting and violence went on; the elexian began to gather around, many of them scared but unable to do anything.   
–The universe is wrong. – Pilgrim spoke again. – It shouldn’t be divided, there’s a reason for what I saw at the Untempered Schism: I’m to be what brings every reality together.   
–I’m sorry, that’s just stupid. – Eken replied.  
The Artist constantly looked at the car.  
–Thought you said we were at Elexer-3. – He said.  
–We are. – Pilgrim began to walk to the computers that were close to them. – It was somehow removed from our reality.  
Some of the elexian gasped, astonished by that remark.  
–This entire dimension is only the surface of the planet. – Pilgrim concluded.  
–That’s why… – The Artist said, still looking at the little aliens. – That’s why one can never reach the mountains.  
–There’s a couple hundred more elexian folk at the other side, they somehow know how to keep the Vashta Nerada away. Apart from us, here inside the building, those are the only life forms in this planet.  
Silence placed itself in the room. Eken looked at the Artist. Somehow her friend seemed as helpless as the other little aliens. She now realized why he was looking at the car. The machine was the only way they’d be able to leave that dimension and go back to theirs. But that would mean exactly what he feared. To let the Pilgrim take control and kill the Eye of Harmony, the one thing, as Archie explained, that powered the Heart of the TARDIS. She looked at the Pilgrim. Blood was dripping from his mouth as he typed randomly at the computer. Somehow he looked more alone than evil at that moment. At one side of the hall, there was the door leading nowhere. At the center was the 69’s Camaro, alive, waiting to be killed. At the other end, the three of them and the little elexian folk, having recently found out how doomed they were.   
–Is there… – Eken spoke. The Artist quickly looked at her and so did the Pilgrim. – Is there another way?  
–You mean without the implosion of the Eye? – Pilgrim asked.  
–Yes.  
Silence.  
–There is.   
Some of the elexian gasped. Eken and the Artist went pale.  
–Look behind you. The thing I’ve been working on. – The Pilgrim pointed at the enormous windowpane behind them. There, a sphere of blue light, not bigger than the Citadel of Gallifrey, emanating little bursts of fire and electricity was floating, like a little sun. – That’s the closer I could get from generating an artificial supernova. That is enough to consume the planet and take it out from this dimension, but I’d be unable to know where it would end up.  
–What’d you mean? – The Artist asked.  
–I mean that the implosion of the artificial Eye of Harmony would send Elexer-3 to another dimension, but due to the infinity of realities I’d be unable to know where it ended up.  
–And the TARDIS? Where does it come up in this plan? – The Artist unconsciously pointed at the car.  
–With the TARDIS real Eye of Harmony we’d be able to set coordinates. But the planet would not be transported.  
–You mean we’d die here? – Said one of the elexian, the same one with the red skin that alerted Eken and the Artist before. – Our resources are short our suns are dying, the vashta nerada will soon take over whoever’s out of the building; you promised to save the planet!  
–You knew we were trapped here?! – Said an elexian with yellow skin, shouting.  
–Yes. You would die here. – The Pilgrim answered. He was looking at the sphere of light floating at the other side of the glass. – But it is not like I care.  
Without notice Eken punched his face. He screamed and tried to get a grip of the gun that was on the floor, but the girl quickly picked it up.  
–No one’s going to die! – She replied. –I have a plan.   
The Artist looked at her with his eyes wide opened. Pilgrim sat straight, his face showed interest.  
–Pilgrim. The implosion of your artificial Eye will send the TARDIS to its original dimension if the coordinates are set correctly, am I right?  
–That is... – He now went closer to them, his face almost showed amazement. – Yes… that’s right.   
–But the planet will go to a different one, is that right?  
–Yes. The TARDIS will only return to the right one because of its space-time element. – The Pilgrim answered.   
–You’ll go with Archie in the TARDIS. I’ll start the implosion here.  
–NO! – The Artist shouted. – No! Why can’t he do it?  
–He wouldn’t because he knows we’d not be back for him. – Eken answered, she had her eyes on the Pilgrim and a serious expression.  
–You’re a lot cleverer than I thought. – The Pilgrim said.  
–No! – The Artist placed himself in front of her. – I won’t leave you, are you insane?   
–Archie, I’ve made my decision, I won’t let this people die. – She pointed at the elexian.  
–What… – He couldn’t speak out of frustration. – How… There’s no way to get you back after!  
–There is. – She said; looking at the Pilgrim.  
–You’re indeed a lot more than you show… – Pilgrim had that sinister smile of his, which was just a lot creepier with all that blood. – So your plan is… we part ways here. Me and the Artist steal the Hand of Omega from the Doctor and come back to get you?  
–I don’t care what the fuck you do after we part ways. – She looked at the sphere of light. – I know Archie will come back for me.  
–Good enough for me. – Pilgrim said, shaking his shoulders. – Artist?  
–No. – The Artist replied.  
–Archie. It’s either that or we die here. I’m not leaving a whole species to die just because that creep wants it.  
–How will I know if you made it?  
–You’ll just have to believe I did.  
–It’s gotta be done soon. – The Pilgrim was looking at the computer screen. – Not to be dramatic, it was already collapsing when you guys arrived here.  
–That’s why you were in such a hurry? – The Artist asked.  
–Yeah, sorry if you thought I was in need of friends.  
The three of them looked at each other. Time now seemed to be running as if the end was coming, had they wanted it or not.  
 


	14. 1812 Overture (Full with Cannons)

It was hours before the Artist stopped screaming if there were no other ways left. He felt an agonizing pain in both his hearts and couldn’t let go of Eken’s hand. They evaluated every possibility. That was it: she’d have to stay with Elexer-3 and just hope they didn’t end up in another pocket dimension. The chance of the TARDIS and the planet ending up in the same universe after the implosion of the artificial Eye were minimal, almost inexistent.  
The little elexian were apprehensive, now knowing that their loved Pilgrim was, in reality, a liar, ready to leave them to die at any moment if necessary for him to escape. Then, there was the Artist. He was, as it appeared to be so, a good man; but also ready to leave that planet to die if it meant Eken would go back with him. They were just grateful she as there. Eken seemed to boldly fight anything that the two men had to say, her decision had been made.  
The Artist was silent while the Pilgrim taught Eken how to activate the implosion of the artificial Eye. He picked up a few of Eken’s favorite clothing from the TARDIS, extra toothbrushes, all the food he could find in the kitchen and left for her. They both were silent, only communicating by looks and sad smiles. Eventually he’d ask her “you sure?” to which she only replied “yes.”  
Buttons were pressed, sounds were heard. Electricity emanated from the metal towers inside the laboratory. At the other side of the windowpane the sphere of light became active. They now had one hour left.  
Some of the elexian were sent to warn the others outside of the danger they’d be in a couple minutes. The vashta nerada, Pilgrim explained, would, as beings of shadow, not be able to handle the trip to the other universe, therefore being wiped out from the surface of the planet.  
When they had only thirty minutes left, it was time to set the coordinates at the TARDIS. The shields would have to be on, the coordinates were set to Earth and they’d have to dematerialize at the exact time of the implosion. The Cloister Bell was ringing inside, the lights were dim and red, and the cylinder at the center of the console was going up and down at incredible speed. For the Artist, it was like the machine knew they were leaving without Eken.  
The Pilgrim was silent the entire time. He felt good to be finally leaving that doomed dimension, and even better that a TARDIS was in his possession and soon enough he’d be in the trail of the Doctor. But a strain of empathy made him feel sorry for Eken and the Artist. In his mind, there were chances that the girl messed up with the calculations and the implosion of the Eye would then just destroy the planet and everything in it; there were chances that the implosion was not even going to teleport them, because he’d done that only once in his lifetime; and then, there was a chance that the dimension where the planet were to end up was just smaller than the one where it currently was. He knew every odd, and as he looked at the Time Lord and the Dronidian he felt both sorry and lonely.  
As they became closer to the time of parting the Artist couldn’t handle the tears in his eyes. Eken focused on the sphere of light as her friend, sitting inside the car with the Pilgrim, with both doors open, typed the calculations on the keyboard of the glove compartment.  
–Artist… – Pilgrim said, in a low tone.  
The Artist did not reply. He had his hands placed on the steering wheel and his eyes looking at Eken through the windshield.  
–You might want to say goodbye n... – He continued, but before he could say the last word the Artist looked at him, and even though he had his eyes red with tears, his entire face emanated anger.  
–You try to steal this car. – He said. – It’ll be useless. The Eye of Harmony only opens at her touch.  
The Pilgrim was silent, his face showed no emotion. He looked down.

Eken looked behind her, as if she too knew that now was the time they didn’t want to believe would come. They both walked to each other slowly, every inch was painful to both of them. 

A tear drop ran through Eken’s cheek. She smiled sadly. Her hair was loose and her hands were trembling as she touched the Artist’s. For a moment they just stood there.  
–Hey grandpa. – She smiled.  
–Do you… – The Artist started to speak, his voice breaking. – Do you remember one of the first things that you said to me?  
–I… – She laughed. – It’s been a while, Archie.  
–You said that art did not belong in museums…  
–It belonged… – Her voice cracked. – With… with whoever could offer it real love, yes.  
He gently touched her face with his fingers.  
–Then you stole that painting. – She laughed.  
–I did!  
They both laughed and smiled for a moment and then he threw himself at her and both his arms eloped around her and hers around him. And to himself he thought that, even though he had no intention whatsoever of leaving her there, that hug felt like goodbye. They’d been together every day ever since they met at Dronid.  
–You changed my life. – She said, not letting go of the hug.  
–You saved mine. – He replied.  
A burst of sound was heard at their back. The sphere of light was now brighter than before. The elexian began to run from the laboratory to the stairs leading to other rooms and the Pilgrim closed his door in the car.  
–Archie… – She let go of his arms.  
Pilgrim pressed the horn of the Camaro just once. They both looked straight into each other’s eyes.  
–I… – She began to speak but he interrupted her.  
–Don’t say it.  
–I… – She looked outraged. – I have to!  
–Don’t say it, ‘cause if you do…  
–Archie! I — He put his finger on her lips.  
–If you say it… then it’s goodbye.

Another burst of sound came from the sphere, and it was now shining brightly red like raging fire. They hugged each other again, to the sound of the horn coming from the car.  
–COME ON! – Shouted the Pilgrim and that was when Archie ran towards the car and Eken ran towards the computer.  
He got inside and shut the door. He placed one hand at the steering wheel and stepped on the accelerator. The car turned around in a perfect drift. The door of the laboratory opened. A strong wind entered it and the sound from the sphere was becoming louder and louder.  
–Alright now, buddy! – The Pilgrim placed both his hands on the panel.  
–Not your buddy. – The Artist replied.  
The car quickly gained speed, and as its wheels moved, blue light began to surround the black bodywork of the car. The miniature of the cylinder at the panel was going up and down and pumping blue liquid inside itself. “Any minute now!” The Pilgrim screamed.  
The first burst of sound was heard. And the car shook its passengers. Light was everywhere outside and the Pilgrim kept looking at the sky through the windshield.  
The Cloister Bell was ringing loudly and the sound of the engine angrily fought back, in a way that when the second burst of sound came the Artist almost missed the gear lever.  
Suddenly at the sky an enormous hole opened and stars could now be seen where before only darkness was.  
“NOW!” The Pilgrim shouted and the Artist pulled back the gear lever abruptly. His foot stepped on the accelerator and the third burst of sound was like a thunder that announced the lightning that was the light emanated from the car.


	15. Bargain.

–Hey buddy!  
–Not your… – The Artist opened his eyes. – Your buddy…  
–Roll down. – Three knocks he heard at the window of the car.  
He rolled down. He felt his head spin as if he’d been hangover for a week.  
–You can’t park here. – Said the strong voice of a big man in his 50’s of age, with a little dog by his side.  
–Where… – The Artist began to speak, looking around outside. Lots of trees and grass were there, as well as people and children, many stopping to look. He looked at the Pilgrim that was asleep in the passenger’s seat. – Where are we?  
–Oh, I see. You’re drunk. – The man laughed. – Listen, pal, you’re at Central Park. I’ll give you credit because this here’s a classic and we’re still early in the morning, but you might want to drive it outta here before anyone else calls the cops on you.  
–Yes… I’ll. – He switched the key and the sound of the loud engine started, as if nothing different had happened and the TARDIS had simply dematerialized from one place to another. – I’ll go. Thank you, sir.  
–You drive safely. – The man concluded.

He pulled the keyboard and typed a couple things, only to later recognize the city. New York. He’d been there with Eken before, on their first year of traveling when most of their adventures were running around Earth enjoying the human’s art. He looked at the Pilgrim, checked to see if both his hearts were beating. 

The Artist turned on the radio, a song from the 70’s was playing.

I sit looking 'round  
I look at my face in the mirror  
I know I'm worth nothing without you  
And like one and one don't make two  
One and one make one  
And I'm looking for that free ride to me

A moment later the other Time Lord looked up. He opened the door without saying a word to the Artist. He stepped out slowly and took a deep breath. He looked up at the sky, a beautiful blue and the morning sun appeared over New York.  
–We did it. – He sat back at the passenger seat.  
–She did it. – The Artist replied.  
–Yes. I suppose that’s right. – He looked out through the windshield. Lots of people walked in suits and some walked their dogs, some rode bicycles and some roller-skated. It’d been centuries since he saw anything that wasn’t an elexian, and even though those were humans he found himself at peace.  
–What now? – He said.  
–You know what. – The Artist did not look at him when he spoke. – We get her back.  
–You know what we need, don’t you?

–Yes. – He sighed and closed his door. He placed one hand on the gear lever and the other on the steering wheel. – We need a Doctor.


End file.
